St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1887-01-02

on the chairs, and Jacks muddy boots
stood in the middle of the floor.
Mrs. Jewett burst into TRADE of dis
pleasure, but the children were out of hear
ing, so instead of judicously and pa tiently
calling them in and obliging them to put
things in their places, she began putting
! things to rights herself, allowing Mr..
! Jewett, as frequently happened. to bear the
! brunt of her displeasure, and for once his
good nature gave way. and he said. pet
tishly:
e Il declare, wife. it is thousand pities
there are any children here, to bother
You 500
Mrs. Jewett made no reply, b ut going to
her room she sat down for moment to
| consider whether or not her husband meant
what he had just said.
But by degrees the room faded from her
vision, the house became quiet-terribly
Quet-the sunlight died out, and shade and
stiffness reigned supreme.
There were footsteps heard, but hushed,
creeping, awed.
All of active life had ceased; even the
kitty had taken herself off, and was no.
where to be seen.
Mrs. Jewett reused herself. and went
from kitchen to dining-room, from dining
room to parlor. The invariable order was
oppressive.
The curtains were rolled with exact
evenness; not the finest line of sunlight
could pierce through crack or crevice of the
nicely adjusted shutters.
Every book was in its place; the chairs
as guiltless of dust as if just cleaned, and
the unblurred polish of the piano reflected
each undisturbed ornament and object in
its vicinity.
But the children! Oh, the childrenl
A great appalling throb of apprehension
and whitening pain shot unrepressed through
the mothers heart at the mention of their
name
Where was winsome-no longer mis-
chievous but winsOme-Willie?
Where, pray, was sportive Carrie and
lively Jennie? Where, too, bounding. low
ing little Jack? Yes" she said, vaguely
peering about in the sunless gloom, ''where
are my precious children?"
She left dining room and parlor and went
from one child's chamber to another
everything in that same depressing order,
even their little beds were unruffied, each
smooth pillow looked as if Impressed by a
sunny head for-0h, SO long.
And ah,l misery! What was that in
Willie's room in the porcelain vase?
Some white flowers tied with white satin
ribbon; and this heart-breaking emblem in
Jennie's room? Her picture. sweet child!
with a crown of fading flowers encircling it
and here in Carries room her picture the
darling also crowned with immortelles.
And Jacks room, forlorn in its tidiness;
yes, yes. funeral wreath III his room,
dear, loving little Jack.
Mrs JewettS first wild impulse was to
diSarrange everything; the quiet and palling
neatness were goading her to madness;
!, Il RI tod i
less house. but the children-oh, the child
rem! The mother felt as if her brain were
afire, and her heart was bursting with its
pent grief; she could not endure it another
moment-and she awoke.
Thank God! She was sitting directly in
the rare, sweet sunlight which God made
to come in, not to be shut out of our homes.
In the garden she heard the sweet, delight
some voices of her children-the blessed
little children.
Kitty, with fluttering little paws, was
clutching with unchecked glee at the tassels
of the muslin curtain; and she noticed with
a sigh of relief that the mahogany bureau,
with its FURNISHED surface, had been paved
with fresh tinger-marks.
Mrs. Jewett arose slowly, locked the
door, then knelt down; after awhile she
went forth, new quiet in her heart, new
smile on her face.
In the diningroom she raised the cur
tains, so that the sunlight danced gayly
through the room.
Jennie came in with a torn apron, and
was greeted with smile of welcome-rent
and all.
Willie had been using paste in the dining
room, and had daubed the cloth, door-knob
and his blouse, but mamma patiently showed
| him how to clean the spots away, and
| Willie promised with great sincerity to be
more careful another time.
The children had gloriously happy day.
At night, when they were all asleep. their
mother went from room to room, gazing
with pure thankfulness at each darling little
sleeper, so dear-ah, so dear! She sighed,
then smiled at the little porcelain vase in
| Willie's room, filled with sweet, wild flow
ers of his own plucking.
Then she went to her own room, and
tearfully told father" her terrible dream
He kissed his wife's fair brow fondly,
and said, soothingly:
Never mind. dear; we're all right now -
And they were. The timely warning was
not lost on the mothers heart, for she never
forgot how terrible it was when in dreams
she roamed from one empty. orderly room
to another in quest of her children. and
could not find them. And she resolved
that she would not wait to place white
flowers in their hand when their perfume
could not reach the dulled sense and their
fading beauty would only break her heart;
the children should have the flowers now,
while their dear eyes were open to behold
them, and their hearts still alive to all of
earth's comforts and delights.
And we would that many another wife
and mother, who is drifting into habits of
fretfulnesS and nervousness through undue
care for the childrens bodies rather than
their souls might dream this lady's dream"